


Luna's daughter

by JaneSeverus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby, F/M, Forgotten Memories, Loss of Virginity, Luna is eighteen in this, Older Man/Younger Woman, Post-War, Pregnancy, Severus Snape Lives, Underage tag for being younger when in Malfoy's jail, after the war, mention of rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8624851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneSeverus/pseuds/JaneSeverus
Summary: After the war Severus has these strange visions and becomes suspicious of them. Are they truly forgotten memories? He asks Granger for help. Luna/Severus





	1. One

In the darkness of the nightly hours, Severus Snape, once potion master at Hogwarts and for one year even its Headmaster, made his way down Diagon Alley after a late visit to Pomona Sprout. The war was over for a good year but his determination to keep to himself and not be seen in public had been spoilt by the many interest he received from his ex-colleagues. Snape had been found after the attack by Nagini, poisoned, weakened but not quite dead yet. The miracle was attributed to the use of an antidote he’d been taken against Nagini’s poison for several months in advance. He’s been taken to St. Mungo’s where he had recovered and the Ministry was now in debate whether to put him back in a function – and what function. His reputation was one lying under heavy fire. His position as a double-agent had won him back some respect from those around him and the fight Harry and his friends put up to cleanse his name was another reason people were smiling at him rather than scolding him away. But the public hadn’t decided yet whether the general opinion was that he was a traitor or a war hero. He had no doubt that if he had died Potter would have made him the latter, though he thought he didn’t deserve it.

Surely enough there were enough people who avoided him, who spat after him in the streets or called him names. He’d been associated with evil for so long and he had killed the previous Headmaster of the school, albeit on order. He carried the Dark Mark on his arm, he had allowed the Dark Lord to reign over Hogwarts while he was head and he had made a great deal of people suffer- most of them children. He was a bad man who had confessed his weaknesses within his last moments of life- or so he had believed, and those confessions now seem to come back to bite him in the precious behind because it was through those memories and those words that Harry saw him for who he truly was: a lonesome man with a broken heart who tried to right his wrongs. An admission he’d never wanted to make while he was alive. And now that he still lived the truth about him stung. He was a weak-head, a fool, still trapped ignorantly in the hand of love. He thought little of himself so how could others think of him better?

port

But through his process of healing from Nagini’s bite and from the shock of having survived the hideous darkness of the war, Severus found himself invited by the Weasley’s, by old colleagues and more than once received an owl from Minerva who was worried about his wellbeing more than his mother ever had been of him.  It was madness in his eyes.

Though he often tried to deny invites, he couldn’t escape every single one of them, and as he made his way to his rundown cottage that had become his permanent home again now that he was away from Hogwarts, he thought back on the delicious pumpkin meal Pomona had fed him earlier that evening. How come the Hufflepuff head of house could treat him like a friend when he’d barely ever had acted like one?

He was paused in his steps by the sound of a young child crying, a baby still, and turned his head to the source of the sound. The figure was hard to make out in the dark but stood a few feet away from him, having taken shelter near to the shop windows. Snape wondered why a mother with a baby was out this late at night.

A hushed voice reached his ears, the sound dreamy and oddly familiar, when the figure, clearly a woman, whispered to the child on her arm. “If you’ll be quiet, sweetheart.”

Snape couldn’t understand it all what he heard but that was the gist of it, and he took a step closer to the woman he still couldn’t see.

“Need a hand?” He asked, feeling it wasn’t the most tactful of question, especially when he saw her jerk in fright at hearing his voice. “You shouldn’t be out with a child so young at this time of night. Let me escort you to your house.”

“Such a gentleman.” The woman laughed and stepped closer to him. The faint light from a lantern now reached her face and Snape’s eyes widened, startled, when he recognised who it was.

“Miss Lovegood.” Not quite a woman then, he mused, and threw a confused look at the babe on her arm. Xenophilius hadn’t been sitting still, Snape thought.

“Professor Snape.” Luna retorted with a smile. The child on her arm wobbled slightly but had grown incredibly quiet, much to Snape’s relief.

“Please, leave behind the pleasantries, Miss Lovegood. It’s just Snape now. I no longer teach at Hogwarts.” He corrected her.

She smiled faintly at him. “That is until they decide to give you back your old position.”

Snape let out a cough. “The ministry would have a lot of explaining to do if they decide such a thing. I fear their wild future plans for me embrace positions which are more secluded and desk-bound.”

For a moment she stared back at him with her dreamy-grey eyes, a gaze he’d seen so often directed at the space in front of her when she’d been a student in his classes. He expected a comment on nargles or some creature similar but it seemed she wisely bit her tongue and instead cocked her head at him before whispering. “You’ll be surprised.”

He raised a brow quizzically but she had used her free arm to hook in his and started to lead the way. “Yes, you may walk me.” She said, and Snape knew that he had to walk her there, Lord knew wherever her home was nowadays, instead of going to his own house for a well-deserved nap. How had he become cursed to be this social?

With a  face like thunder he walked with her. His dark voice booming when he asked her where she’d come from this time in the night.

“Well, Ollivander, of course. I’ve helped him out quite a great deal. You see, his wands were in need to be sorted and-“ he let her jibber onward without actually listening. His mind too occupied with worrying about how many miles his feet would have to go before his duty would be over. It was a good thing the baby kept quiet most of the walk, having drowsily closed its eyes while Luna rambled on and on about the mess the wandmaker had found himself in.

He recalled the few times Luna had visited him in St Mungo’s, right after the war. She’d been one of the few to pay him a visit those first days. Gradually the Weasleys and other surviving order members came by – mostly because Harry insisted to boast about all the good deeds he supposedly had done.  

“This is it, thank you, Professor.” He glowered at her and she beamed back at him. Irritated by her use of his lost-title, and even more so by the fact that they stood at the dead-end of a street where no doors could be seen, he snarled at her.

“I told you, Miss Lovegood, it’s no professor but mister now. And I don’t see the entrance to your house.”

Luna giggled, the child in her arm stirring at the sound. “This isn’t where my house is, professor.” She said, earning a groan from the man in front of her by her obvious and insistent use of the title he once had carried. “From this point I can apparate. See, there’s a portkey.” She pointed at an irony band around one of the gutters and Severus was reminded again why everyone called her a lunatic at Hogwarts.

“This doesn’t seem safe for a young teenage girl and her sibling in the midst of the night.” He said back with a snarl still on his face, showing how displeased he was by the whole situation. “Has your father become so careless even after almost losing you during the war that he allows you to do this?”

Luna’s eyes widened for a short moment, as if shocked by his words, but otherwise her expression didn’t give her emotions away. If it hadn’t been for the baby to start moving restlessly on her arm and making sounds as if it were about to cry, Snape might have believed she’d remained unaffected by his words. “It’s better than having a portkey at Knockturn Alley, don’t you think?” She simply replied, not doing anything to satisfy his nerves.

“For Merlin’s sake, Miss Lovegood, if you and your sibling ever go out this late again send a Patronus my way. I won’t have a young girl like yourself out here by your own no matter if it is just Diagon Alley. Your father is a fool to let you wander about when there are wicked men about. The war might be over but evil, Miss Lovegood, is never defeated.”

She stared at him, pensively, until a shiver crawled up his spine and she broke her gaze away. “You’re right. I suppose even the Gulping Blimpies won’t be able to keep me save from the wicked men. Good night, professor.” And before he could say anything to protest Luna had grabbed the portkey and had vanished.

Cursing, Snape turned around and exited the dead end alley to continue his way to his own home and bed.  He would never understand the Lovegoods.


	2. 2

“I appreciate this , Potter, I really do but-”

“It’s a very good offer, Snape, you’d be wise to accept it.” Harry said, urging his old potion master to agree with the offer laid before him. Severus shrugged, clearly not at all convinced and quite hesitant toward what the boy was presenting him with.

“The boy is right.” Shacklebolt said, having accompanied the boy to bring this _joyous_ news. “If you keep sitting here, all locked up, it will bring you nothing but grief.”

Snape wanted to object and tell them he was quite good sitting here by himself, thank-you-very-much, but he knew it would be unwise. Potter was as hard-headed and s hard to persuade as a rock, and he didn’t fancy having the boy who lived drag all the other ex-order members over to his doorstep to convince him.

“Look, you said you didn’t want an office job,” Harry continued, thinking he was being helpful, “and this is the best thing that could have come our way. Please say you’ll do it, sir?”

And now those green, green eyes stared up at him hopefully, pleadingly – how was he to say no to Lily’s eyes?

“All right, I’ll do it.” He breathed, the words out before he realised that he had agreed. Another sneer on his face at the realisation that he’d surrendered to the boy’s plot, to James and Lily’s son. _Cursed_.

And now he’d be stuck socialising! He’d taken on an offer to brew potions for hospitals such as St Mungo’s.

“That I would succumb to this. Factory-work! Ridiculous.” He complained from his position in the chair by the window.

Shacklebolt’s hand was on his shoulder before he could continue his lament. “It’s no factory job, Snape. You’ll be working away in your own dungeon. The potions pose no explosive danger.”

“I’ve seen the list.” Snape hissed. “I know that what you ask of me is child’s play.” His dark eyes bore up into those of the other man, anger all on the ex-professor’s face.

Shacklebolt merely curled his lips in a smile. “Think of it this way, whether you receive a war hero’s honorarium or not, this will ensure you of an income. You can work secluded, do what do you best and you’ll still be in contact with several organisations who will thank you for helping them save so many lives.”

Snape huffed. He knew that if he did this task he’d not only have a job again, but he’d also be confirming the image Potter had painted of him: That of a good guy, a war hero. He wanted to say he gave nought about poor ailing creatures but he couldn’t find it in him to lie so he kept his lips pressed shut.

“You’ll get that honorarium, Snape. I’ll make sure of it.” Harry broke him out of his thoughts. The boy smiled reassuringly at him and Severus thought he’d never seen such a cocky smile before, not even James Potter had been this self-confident and smug. Winning the war really did wonders to Harry’s ego. It made the boy perhaps even worse than his father ever had been.

He sunk back in his chair, head in his hand, and stared in front of him wondering whatever he had done to survive Nagini’s bite and be cursed with life like this.

“You deserve it.” Harry said, as if reading his mind, and Snape felt the paranoid need to verify if the boy had been using legimens on him or so. But instead he just narrowed his eyes at him.

“Come for dinner tomorrow. Mrs Weasley would be delighted if you come and join us.” The boy added, only adding to the mental torture Snape felt.

Visiting the Weasley’s meant much cheerfulness. It meant watching Harry and Ginny play loving doves with one another, watching Hermione and Ron stare into each other eyes, hearing about Bill’s happiness and seeing the one twin brother that had survived doing his best to pretend like he enjoyed having the potion master over. But the worst was all the pretence. By pretending they were happy they were trying to forget the horrors, the people they lost, the family that had died. Fred.

“Yes, I’ll come.” He lazily said, grieving the very words slipping off his tongue.

“Grand.” Harry stood up from his chair opposite of Snape and walked over to the hearth. “We’ll be expecting you round six, that okay?”

“Yes.” Snape didn’t do much effort to look at the boy as he smiled one last time before disappearing into the hearth.

“He means well.” Shacklebolt said before taking the now empty place and leaning his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly as if to get closer to Snape. His voice turned to a confidential tone. “If there’s anything you need you must say so, Severus. We’re all trying to help you. What you’ve been through has been traumatising to a point many of us can’t understand. You tried hard and you’re still trying but you don’t need to do this alone, you hear me?”

And as he leant backward in the chair he continued. “I shall have a help sent here to clean up the house. The most important thing is your dungeon, it needs to be transformed into a safe haven for brewing the required potions, meaning it must be clean enough for the required regulations. Don’t worry, it’ll be fixed within a day. Once your home starts to look more like  home again rather than a rundown cot you’ll notice you’ll start feeling better yourself as well.”

The charming smile worked to take away Snape’s resolve and he relaxed now. “Thank you, Kingsley. There’s been a lot of… worry on my mind.”

“Worry? Severus, pray tell?”

Snape eyed him for the shortest of moments, then glanced at his hands, studying the veins on the back of them in the candle light. “I know you and Minerva both have suggested therapy, much like everyone else has. I declined the Weasley’s therapist.” He looked up at Kinsley. “For reasons you know well. But,” he held up a hand to silence the man in front of him ere he could interrupt, “I know I suffer from a lack of self-esteem. I wallow in self-loathing and pity and I think I don’t deserve to come out of it. I have thought so for many years and with the Dark Lord gone the feeling didn’t fade. To me it feels like he could pop up around every corner, every second of the day. It doesn’t feel as if he’s gone.”

“And that, my friend, is what a good therapist can help you with…” Shacklebolt said, then after hesitating and pensively biting his lip continued. “That and allowing people near you. I know it’s not always pleasant as many carry bad memories around, for you and for them, but together we can heal.”

“What if I cannot heal?” Severus asked, looking up at the man.

Shacklebolt smiled faintly. “There are people who believe you can. But whether the path we’ve taken now is the right one remains to be seen.”


	3. 3

Snape found, as time proceeded, that he started to like his new work. The brewing kept his mind of the dark memories residing there. The flashes of green from the potions at first recalled images of death, of Lily clutched in his arms, of victims he stood by and watched being tattered. But now they seemed to have faded, the mental images lulled to a level he could handle.

If not for the horrid dreams visiting him at night he might be getting better. He had decided to take a potion against nightmares, dreamless slumber, every night before going to bed. Hermione had suggested against it, telling him that the dreams were a way of him coping with the traumatic events but as was natural to him he didn’t let himself be told what to do by a mere child – even if she was the brightest witch of her age.

But strangely enough the dreams did not fade, despite the potion. He had less nightmares, yes, but he still had them. Flashes of victims he brought to the Dark Lord, the evil wizard laughing in his face, people he knew being tortured, the Dark Lord demanding him to raise his wand and do the vilest things, a pleasant warm body snaking against his own, a soft voice pleading him to stop, an almost inaudible sob as he thrust forth.

It wasn’t until a few weeks after he’d gotten his new job that he delivered the freshly brewed potions to St Mungo’s when he spotted the Lovegood girl in one of the wards. She had the baby in her arms and he decided to make a detour.

“Are you well, Miss Lovegood?”

She smiled up at him. “I am well.” It was an answer that was so normal, it was completely out of the ordinary for her, and Snape wondered whether the girl was growing up.

“Not been wandering around at night on your own again, I hope.”

“I…. no, I came for her.” She held up the baby in her arms who seemed slightly sweaty and having difficulty to breathe.

Worry overtook Snape’s face when he saw the poor little thing, struggling with its little arms and legs. He knew enough about potions to know the many dangers that could have befallen this child.

“The baby needs-”

“A potion and fast.” A nurse said as she came rushing in. She glanced at Snape but only shortly before leaning towards the child and revealing  bottle, one of the potions in it that Snape had just delivered. Was he going to save the little Lovegood’s child?

He bit his lip.

“She’s going to be fine.” The nurse said, gently combing a finger through the white hair on the baby’s head. “You were just in time, Miss Lovegood. Not much longer and the potion would not have worked.”

Snape had never seen Luna look so shaken before. She’d always been the student who appeared calm in the face of danger, who stood still with a dreamy smile plastered on her face when others bullied her, who didn’t cry or plead for freedom when the Death Eaters had kept her imprisoned t Malfoy Manor.

And now here she was, worry obvious in her eyes. Why was Xenophilius leaving the girl on her own when clearly her baby sister was so terribly ill?

The nurse snapped her head at him, being unfamiliar with Snape – he didn’t deliver potions for so long and sometimes the elves brought them, plus they were delivered to another department. “And now you, sir.” She frowned, vaguely finding him familiar but not knowing what from. Which was perhaps lucky for him. “Are you a relative, sir? Because otherwise you aren’t supposed to be in here”

“Just a worried friend passing by.” Snape heard himself say, mouth still dry from all the excitement from earlier on. His eyes were fixed on the baby, a proper Lovegood with blonde hair and grey eyes.

“Well, then, sir, I must ask for you to-“ The nurse had stood up and was urging Snape to take steps back towards the door when Luna called out.

“He’s family.” And then after a coo from the child she giggled. “Oh, she’s doing better!”

The nurse melted, a smile upon her face, as she looked back at the baby who seemed to look healthier every minute.

“Good, I’ll go and run a few tests. If she passes them you’re allowed to go. How’s that?” Luna agreed with the Nurse who then promised to be back within five minutes to take the babies blood pressure, temperature and scan the child magically for any remaining signs of symptoms.

“What were you doing here, professor?” Luna asked as soon as the nurse was out of the room.

“Why did you lie that I was family?” He retorted.

“Are you ill?” Luna asked back, worriedly, ignoring his question by asking another of her own and rattling on. “Is it a PTSD? Is that it? Is it some other kind of nightmare-related stuff? Can you sleep at night, professor? Is it bad memories? Did you bump your head? Did you hit your knee? Did the poison of Nagini affect your brain, or worse even your heart? “

He had to cut her off. “None of that. I brew potions for the hospitals now. I just delivered a batch here.” He walked over to the table next to the bed on which Luna and the child were seated and took up the empty potion bottle. “It’s reassuring to see they’re being put to good use.”

With a flick of his hand the empty bottle disappeared into this cloak. He’d take that one home and clean it thoroughly.

“Oh, so I should thank you, professor?” Luna said, eyes big and wild again. “Did you save her life?”

Snape glanced at her from over his nose. “No need to thank me, Miss Lovegood. And please, call me Snape.” He turned towards her now and bend through his knees to lean closer to the baby girl on her arms. “On the topic of names…. What name does your sister have? I expect it to be something eccentric.”

“Eccentric?” Luna asked as if he said something really odd. “Why no, sir, her name is simple yet beautiful.” She seemed to hesitate, then her dreamy sing-like voice sounded again. “Lily, she’s called.”

It was good timing for the nurse to enter again because Snape felt his jaw drop in awe at the simple yet oh-so familiar name. A  name that had haunted him for most of his life. How on earth had Xenophilius come up with such a painfully familiar name for the poor girl?

Luna’s attention was back on the baby while the nurse tended to the child, otherwise she would have asked whether he was all right. But Snape was thankful that her attention was elsewhere and quickly apologised before leaving the room.

On his way home he thought about what had just happened and determined that Xenophilius had indeed lost his mind.


	4. 4

That night in his dream he was back in a dark and damp dungeon. He entered the cell with ease, pushed the old man aside who came his way as if to stop him, rendered him unconscious with a quickly cast spell.

There were boys in the corner he saw now, boys and perhaps a girl, huddled together, trembling in fear. He scowled at them and they quickly looked away. Somehow he knew they wouldn’t try anything.

The next moment he was towering over a lonesome figure, a girl who had sat on her own, cowered into a ball. But as she looked up at him he could see that she was expecting this, that she was expecting him. “Engorgio.” He heard himself whisper, voice rough and hoarse, and as his erection grew he unbuttoned his pants. “That’s it, little girl.” He heard himself whisper. “That’s good.” He said as he parted her legs. She didn’t fight him when he went underneath her skirt, nor when he pulled down her panties nor when he inserted himself in her. A quick spell he pointed at her with his wand and she was growing soaking wet, making the slide much better than when dry. He started pumping her,  in and out and in and out, and all the while she hardly made a noise. He could see she was trying to muffle her own sounds by the hand she had placed over her lips and he let her.

Something told him this wasn’t the first time he’d come here and done this. A flash of the girl in one of the upstairs rooms, her lip bleeding, her eyes fiery, came to mind. A demand, simple and swift, by the Dark Lord. The feeling of hesitation, of doubt. The reassuring, yet pressing, tone of his master as he demanded for Snape to take his pleasure after such a long time. Someone yelled at him to use magic to help along his erection. The way he had squeezed his eyes shut. The way she had gasped in pain as he entered her the first time. Blood. Her eyes filled with pity as he withdrew.

But that was all in the past and this was now. And right now he felt no remorse at taking the girl. His hands ran through her long hair, tangling in it whenever he came across a knot, pulling slightly as he combed the strands with his fingers, all the while thrusting into her like an animal in heat. With a low grunt he felt himself come, the sticky semen spreading inside the girl’s body which was pressed tightly against his own as he hugged her, never wanting to let go. When he withdrew he placed a kiss on the top of her head. _“I’ll be back._ ” He heard himself promise to her, and as he left he could hear the boys stir and the old man curse. But what was being said he could not recall.

* * *

Disturbed by last night’s events, Snape was seated opposite of Hermione Granger during yet another of the Weasley family dinners and in a rather grumpy mood. The bright witch seemed to have taken up on that because she kept sending him worried glances and even shushed Ginny as the girl ignorantly asked him about the dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Did you have bad dreams again?” Molly Weasley asked, the concern thick in her voice.

Snape huffed and deliberately glanced away. The action itself being confirmation.

“I thought you were taking the anti-dreaming potions?” Arthur said. At this Hermione’s eyes darkened in apparent displeasure. Hadn’t she advised Snape against the use of them? Hadn’t she insisted he’d better seek mental help, someone to deal with the issue at hand.

“I did. I do.” Snape corrected himself and then cleared his throat as he reached for his goblet filled with still too hot tea. “It’s not helping.” He lamented, then raised the goblet to his lips but felt the steam coming off the hot beverage and quickly placed it down again. “Not fully.” He clarified.

“You still have dreams then?” Harry asked. “Or some of them?”

“Some of them.” Snape confirmed, turning to face the boy. He’d done so much to protect this kid in the past and here he was, being looked at by his protégé with worry. As if he deserved such concern, ridiculous. He was a lost cause if even his own potions didn’t help him.

 “Snap out of it, Snape.” Hermione growled at him, getting his attention. She indeed was a bright witch to be able to guess what kind of self-loathing was on his mind. “I had told you that it possibly wouldn’t work, hadn’t I? Why did you still try?”

Snape raised a brow as he looked back at her, his gut instinct telling him that something was terribly off about this all. “Why did you advise me against it?” He retorted and she groaned out loud.

“Why don’t you just answer my question?” She wasn’t screaming, but there was such aggression in her voice, indicating how terribly put off she was by all of this, that he couldn’t help but sneer back at her.

“Why are you so angry?”

“Now that is enough.” Molly interrupted, deliberately placing a freshly baked goose between the two as a physical barrier. “Calm down, dears.” She then turned to Severus and tried to reassure him before turning back to Hermione. “We’ll find something for you, dear. We can ask one of the doctors at St Mungo’s. And you,” She said to Hermione, “shouldn’t get angry when he is already having such a hard time. Can’t you see the poor soul is trying?”

“I think it’s good of you to try.” Harry whispered at Snape’s side. The older man leant slightly towards the boy as if to hear him better.

“Normally such a potion should work. I’ll have to look into this. There must be a reason why some of the dreams still come leaking through.”

“I used the right amount of everything, Potter.” Snape said before the boy could ask him about it. “I daresay I’m an expert in the art of potion making.”

Harry smiled a smile that was slowly turning into a wicked grin. “Oh, I know how competent you are, Snape. Very skilled.”

Snape loved it when someone gave him a compliment.


	5. 5

“Good morning, Miss Bell.” Snape greeted the girl he once had in his classes as she entered the room in which he waited with the new order of potions.

“So many healing potions!” Katie Bell happily said when she saw what he’d brought her. “And just in time.” She turned towards Snape and smiled at him. “You’re an angel, mister Snape.”

Snape’s lips curled on their own accord into the faint ghost of a smile. Another compliment, he would take it. “Well, then, I expect my payment before the week’s out. You know my bank account?”

Katie chuckled and nodded. She was a trainee and naturally didn’t go about the salaries. The things she did do was collect the potions and test them on their quality. But her biggest passion was still sports and Snape couldn’t imagine her working here for long. Eventually she would end up on the Quidditch pitch, she had to.

“There’s been many people asking for you.” She informed him casually as she picked out a few vials to test. Snape raised a brow but didn’t ask. His silence was question enough for her and she continued on her own.

“Many students who last saw you as their headmaster. Some of them still really fear you, you know. But I told them you’re actually quite all right. I said to them that you’re working potions for St Mungo’s now and saved lots of children. Why, Luna Lovegood the other day said you even saved her little kid with one of your potions. Luna, you remember her? Loony Lovegood. And Dean Thomas had broken his back when your potion fixed it.”

Snape’s face had turned paler and he hardly heard how Katie continued onward. Not that it was too much praise, but something stirred within him at the mention of Luna Lovegood, like a faint memory echoing in the back of his head.

“Snape? Snape, for Merlin’s Sake!” It sounded much like Lucius’ voice. The vision of dark bricks swum before his eyes, too vague to distinguish the proper shapes, as if the image itself was like waves in water. But the feeling he had was that of the Malfoy Manor, much like  in his dreams. He knew he’d visited there often during the Second Wizard War. With the many times the Dark Lord had requested his presence there for meetings and other important missions it was no wonder the memory was hard for him to recover. Painful and traumatic events like these were often denied by the brain in order to survive, and he supposed this was what he was doing now.

“And? Will you go to the reunion?” He looked up into Katie Ball’s frowning face and hastily apologised. “That’s okay,” she said, “as long as you’ll think about it. Will you come?”

“When is this… reunion?” He asked after a short pause.

“Next Saturday.” Katie chirped, her hands floating about. “And I say you’d do well to go there. Then you can show them how good of a man you are yourself instead of having me do all the positive gossip for you.” She winked at him and with a slightly awkward feeling, Snape nodded and turned away from her to walk back to the hearth.

“I will think about it.” He mumbled, but she had heard nonetheless.

“Great!” She yelled after him and he could hear her collect some more vials – they were clinking together and he thought she might be trying to balance too many in her arms at a time but he wouldn’t turn to have a look. As he stepped into the hearth and prepared for apparation, he could hear her laugh, much like the sound of a bell. How fitting, he thought.

“I’d miss you if you weren’t there.”

That sounded oddly flirting.

Back at home in his own dungeon, now neatly equipped for all the potion making he had to do, the walls restored and the dampness gone, Snape sat in his chair and rested his head in his hands.

The dreams that kept haunting him gave him mixed feelings. He’d wake up either having spilled or still suffering from morning wood – and this was the pleasant part. But there was always this feeling of shame in the back of his mind, this feeling of regret, of wrongness, as if he had done something that would condemn him. But the worst was that he seemed to have forgotten what it was.

Hot dreams placed in a surrounding that had traumatised him. Now what could that possibly mean?  His mind wandered back to his latest memory of the dream. Only this morning he’d woken up with his fingers curled in hair that wasn’t there. The faint memory of a smell lingering in his nostrils that he couldn’t place and definitely wasn’t there. Pureness, cleanness, youthfulness. He couldn’t even describe what it had smelled like but he’d known it had been good and pure and that he craved more.

It was agitating not to know what caused these dreams to seep through the sleepless slumber potions he’d created. It was agitating to have this feeling that something wasn’t right.


	6. 6

Saturday had arrived, the reunion of Hogwarts students,  a bit over a  year after the battle of Hogwarts. Those who had been in their last year during the war had mostly returned to finish that year and had seen each other recently. But they still came because not everyone had decided to come back and finish their education.

By the time Snape made his entrance the festivities were in full flow and he could enter almost unnoticed. It had taken his ex-colleagues  and newfound friends to convince him though and Professor Sprout flanked him at one side while Hermione soon came to his other. The presence of Hermione also meant the attention of Potter and Weasley, which resulted into even more attention of the crowd. Snape wanted to shrink into the shadows and disappear but he wasn’t given the chance and students overloaded him with questions.

Katie Bell was there, like she had promised, and made her way over to him and he thanked Merlin silently when she managed to scoop him out of the crowd and yelled for the others to give him a break. Together they made their way to the tables standing at the side and offering a rich buffet. As she took some pumpkin punch he settled for wine and cheese from a platter.

Then she came to stand next to him, leaning backwards just slightly, eyeing him from under her lashes. “I’m glad you came. There were bets going on saying you weren’t going to. Seems I won.”

“You were quite persistent in your invitation.” Severus responded to that, hewing on a piece of cheese thoughtfully while she watched him in silence and took another sip of her punch. Then he continued, “I believe you’d said you tire of defending my good name.”

Katie snorted and waved her free hand about. “And quite right. Your reputation is still heavily debatable but I, for once, am convinced of all the good you’ve done.” When she saw his expression sour her own eyes softened and she took another step closer to him. “I know you’re a good man, Severus Snape. Even if you don’t seem to know this yourself.”

When she reached for his hand he quickly withdrew it from the table side. The thought of taking another snack was forgotten and with his glass of wine he turned back to the crowd. Some of his ex-students stood whispering just a few feet away while glancing suspiciously at him, as if not sure whether to approach him or not. He didn’t care what it was that was on their minds, His eyes searched for the familiar faces of Hermione and Sprout who had so kindly guided him, or even McGonagall who he felt more at ease with than with the young girl now by his side. It was in this search-attempt that his eyes caught sight of a familiar blonde student, sitting with a child on her lap. But just as he was about to wander over to her his sleeve was grabbed by Hermione.

“There you are. I was worried you’d wandered off.” She said sternly.

Snape’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t believe I am in need of a babysitter, Miss Granger.”

She let out a laugh like bells twinkling. Behind her Katie approached again but the girl visibly hesitated and gave Hermione a curious look. “Trust me, you do.” And with that said, Hermione tightened her hold on his sleeve and started to guide him away from the buffet and into the crowd again.

During the evening Snape became aware of three things. One, as time proceeded he became aware of Katie’s increasingly souring stare in the direction of Hermione. The latter was guiding him much like a nanny, knowing he needed someone to keep him in check (and from escaping the party). But apparently Miss Bell was having other thoughts about Hermione’s constant presence by the ex-professor’s side.

Two, as the evening drew close to an end Severus found that whenever he wanted to walk into the direction of Miss Lovegood he was held back by the previously mentioned girl by his side. Hermione seemed to almost actively be trying to keep him away from the Ravenclaw which only made the wheels in his mind turn harder.

And three, he was hardly given any time alone due to all the interest shown in him. Had he really been a double spy? Had he risked his life? Had Nagini almost killed him? Was he saving children at St Mungo’s now? The questions, time after time again, gave him a headache and he was glad when he managed to tear himself away from Hermione and Sprout in order to visit the gentleman’s room, as it were.

In the hallway he took his time to recollect himself. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall as he took deep breaths. A bit over an hour and it’d be done and he could go home.

“Professor, I noticed it too.” He opened his eyes at the familiar voice of a boy he once had taught and came face to face with none other than Neville Longbottom. “Hermione,” he started, “He’s keeping you away from Lovegood.”

The boy looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was heading their way but, luckily for them, this part of the hallway was deserted. And so he leant closer to the man who had been his professor at one point and whispered confidentially, trapping the older man’s body with his own, indicating this was a secret only Severus was supposed to hear. “You know she never returned for her seventh year. I have, but when I came to class she wasn’t there. Was ill after the fight, they said. This is the first time after the battle I’ve seen her and quite frankly,” he hesitated and listened for footsteps again, but they were still on their own, “I don’t think the child’s her sister.”

As he pushed himself away from Severus and scanned the hallway from the corners of his eyes, Neville said “bad things happened at the Malfoy Manor.” Then he turned and made his way down the hall.

Snape cleared his throat, hoping to catch the boy’s attention. “You think someone hurt Miss Lovegood during her imprisonment?” He asked, seeing Neville skip a step and then halt before turning to face him with a crooked, yet sad, smile on his face.

“The torture we all know of.” He stated matter-of-factly. “But something unsavoury might have happened that might have something to do with the glamour and shielding spells she has on the kid.” He clicked his tongue. “You might want to wonder why Hermione is keeping you away.”

When Snape entered the party again his head was filled with all the possible implications. Not just what Neville had said but also his own observations combined with the failing effect of the slumber potions and the nightmares that came through.

No, not nightmares. Memories perhaps?

“There you are. You took an awful long time.” Hermione scolded him while she dragged him back into the crowd before Katie had time to reach him.

“Miss Granger, listen…” he started but she shushed him.

“Hermione. Just Hermione, okay? We’re friends.” She smiled at him and took his hand in her own. “Now, Pomona and I have been discussing this when you were gone but we want to do one last round of the delicious Hogwarts cake and pumpkin juice and then we wish to go home. You’ll leave with us?”

He sighed. “What other choice have I?”

Her grin turned into a bigger one. “None.” Behind her Ron appeared. The boy had come to the party even later than they had and kissed his girlfriend openly before smirking at Snape. “Come, there’s still some cake left.”

As Severus made his way back to the banquet his eyes travelled past the edges of the room where he spotted Luna on one of the benches, a sleeping child in her arms. Neville’s words in the back of his mind, he focused hard on the child, trying to see whether any wards of spells were indeed surrounding her. His wandless magic seemed to be having some effect for the tired looking Luna suddenly seemed to lose her balance, as if she could feel someone was trying to use magic towards her. As she stumbled on the bench, a mist seemed to simmer round the child, something that was being noticed by many of the people around. Even Ron stopped to stare, which naturally caused Hermione to glance in Luna’s way as well.

For the shortest of moments the child’s white hair turned into the colour of a raven’s feathers. The child reacted to the magic as well, opening her eyes and, being disturbed in her sleep, also her mouth in order to cry. The bright and grey eyes darkened for a few seconds, then everything was as it should be.

“Well, I couldn’t leave her with my dad!” He heard Luna cry out to the concerned Ravenclaw student by her side. But why she couldn’t was lost to him as Hermione tugged him along.

“Come on. We’re leaving.”


End file.
